


The Bra Salesman in the Other Van

by HBNDoubleD



Series: For smut's sake... [2]
Category: Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt
Genre: Canon Gay Character, Cunnilingus, F/M, Naked in front of someone, Nudity, dubious, dupe, duping, naked, nude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-27 00:36:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10798071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HBNDoubleD/pseuds/HBNDoubleD
Summary: This is a play on the opening scene of Season 1 Episode 9: Kimmy has a Birthday!“To quote Virginia Slim, a skinny Southern drag queen I know: "You've come a long way, baby.””" Uh, doy. I'm getting my diploma, I have a boyfriend, and I finally have a bra that fits right, thanks to that bra salesman in the other van.“Damn it, Kimmy.”





	The Bra Salesman in the Other Van

 

Kimmy lay face up on the bed, eyes pert and awake as she continuously counted to ten, awaiting the morning crooning from the friendly neighborhood meth-head. Full of exuberance, she sprang from the bed and thrust open her flimsy folding-door.

“Good morning Titus!” she cooed to the sleeping man on the couch, the barbie-clad channel-changing stick still within his grasp.

“Hm? Hm?” he asked in slumber, the crust on his eyes caking them closed.

She yanked on the shower handle until it started sputtering--while waiting for actual water to come forth, she cast aside her pj’s standing in the nude, gripping her chest for warmth.

“Girl it is too early in the morn’n for you to be flauntin’ that body of yours all over the place.” he rolled his eyes and yawned.

“Sorry not sorry Titus!” She said with a grin. “Today’s the big day!”

“Right right. Happy birthday.” He said obligatorily.

“THANK YOU TITUS!” She hopped forward and threw herself atop him in a hug.

“Ew! No.”

She just smiled at him, as much as he like to push his feelings aside, she knew that he loved her. She jumped (quite literally) into the shower.

“EEEP!”

Her nipples thrust forward in protest to the temperature, but she was tough so she would just fight it until it warmed up.

 

“So, you got _anything special_ planned this morning?” She asked, trying to eek out a hint at her birthday present.

“Girl you know I don’t get up until 10 at LEAST.”

She shrugged in her typical _yeah, I guess so_ way and got to business. Her fingers softly combed shampoo down her long crimson locks, she hummed to herself with dreaming eyes closed, Titus merely watched her. She lathered up her soap in her hands and began to scrub herself clean.

Her body became sudsy, but she began to struggle to wash her back; Titus eventually felt he needed to step in. “Give it.” putting his hand out for the soap. “Thanks Titus!”

He sighed as he ran the bar of soap over her shoulders and back, down the length of her spine, to the small, and eventually even washed her butt. He got nothing out of it except the feeling that he help a poor mole woman, which was often thanks enough. He did however take a mental note of her butt to imagine-shop an olympian’s face onto later.

Kimmy cuddled herself under the water--now warm--rinsing the soap from her lithe body; Titus went back into his semi-sleep state. Though she didn’t want to--since picking up the habit she hates the chore of it--she grabs her razor and shaving cream. It was the process that she hated, the feeling of them smooth against her clothes or even the air made her giddy--and if on any day she wanted that joy--her birthday.

When she got out she looked at Titus and with a smile shook her hair out over him.

“Damnit woman I’m SLEEPING!”

 

_Prick._

“OW!” the safety pin keeping her brastrap attached, came loose and firmly stuck itself into the side of her breast, the strap snapped backwards and the cup fell.

“STUPID Mommy-fudgin’ bra!” she set her bag down and thrust her hands under her sweater, baring her stomach, as she tried to re-clasp them without poking herself _again._

Then, she noticed a man watching her, grinning.

“Um, can I help you?” she asked rudely.

“Actually I was wondering if I could help _you.”_ he said politely.

His tone threw her off and she felt she might’ve misinterpreted his stare. “Oh, well um...I don’t think so...not unless you have a new bra for me…” she said offhandedly, knowing that _at some point_ she’d need to spend money on clothes.

The man’s eyes lit up, “Actually...I do. They’re in my van.”

“Your van?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You can have whichever one you want, and you can try them on to make sure they fit.”

“Sweet.” she said cooley, or at least trying to be cool--she didn’t want to ruin this opportunity. “I think I have time...maybe…whatever its cool.”

“So yes?”

“Totes.”

 

The van was solid black with no windows in the back and tint on the ones in the front. The man swung the door open and offered his hand for her to use as leverage. Sure enough, there were piles of clothes and she even saw yellow items!

“Wow! Where’d you even get all this stuff?” she said as she got on her knees to pick through some of the items.

“Uhh...I’m a...salesman. Yeah, that’s it.”

“Cool.” She accepted blindly. “Can I um...try these on?”

“Of course, see that’s why this place is so private.” He shut the door behind him.

“Oh...you’re gonna…”

“Well these are all my products I can’t just leave them unattended.”

She nodded, _that’s fair I guess._

“Plus, how are you going to get feedback from out there? After all, I am a professional.”

“Right.” She nodded in confirmation, “Traveling Bra Salesman.”

She held the bright yellow fabric that so caught her eye before, it was small and cute. “Can I have this one?”

“Is it the right size?” he asks casually.

“Oh.” she flushed, she didn’t know anything about sizes...the one she had on--the only _one--_ was provided by the Reverend. “Lemme see.”

She studied the tag but it may as well have been a math equation.

“Uhhh...uhhh...uhh..”

“Here lemme see it.”

Within moments of looking at the tag declares it an ‘A’ then asks if she knows what she wears (knowing she was bigger than that).

“I--” she blushed, “I don’t actually know.”

“Well, let’s get that figured out first. No point in going through ones that are going to be the wrong size. May I?” He asked as he stepped closer to sit next to her--the question implied by his hands stretching forward towards her chest.

With hesitation she allowed it, remembering he was the professional here. His fingers made contact with her fatty tissue and squeezed them slowly, pushing them back and forth.

“Definitely not an A cup.” he whispered.

She looked up at him, “Then which is it?”

“We’re gonna have to take these off and see for ourselves, shall we.”

“Sure.”

He pulled the bottom of her salmon sweater over her head, she shook out her red hair, his fingers carefully unbutton the shirt and she watches his face the whole time. He slides the fabric off her shoulders and she shrugs it to the floor.

The bra she wore was ugly, worn, torn, and beaten--stitched back together--thrown down a flight of stairs and still was managing to cling to life by (not just one but) a _litany of safety pins._

“YEAH...I think it’s time for something new. Something nice even.”

She hated to say it, but he was right--this birthday she actually _would need_ clothes. It took no effort at all to remove the thing--it was practically begging for death. To his dismay though, no size was included in the tag since they were individually handmade to begin with.

“Well, we’re gonna have to to do this the old fashioned way--trial and error. First, lemme get another estimate.”

He cupped her bare boobs, gauging weight and diameter for the sake of picking a bra--and he ran his fingers across her nipples for the sake of--well--of it.

He fished around for a good subset of sizes just to try, as she picked through and found the ones she adored. All the while remaining comfortably topless in their seclusion.

“Alright let’s give this one a go.”

He held out a red and pink one that had frilly black lace at the bottom. She took it and examined it with confusion and distaste.

“Don’t worry, it’s just to see the sizing.”

“Okay…”

She put it on her front and went to clasp it from the back but was struggling immensely--her old bra wasn’t intentionally made to clasp--it was just broken enough.

“Here try it like this.”  He wrapped the bra around her waist and clasped it at her stomach, then flipped it around--helping her arms in as she pulled it up and into place. He dug his fingers into the cup and pulled her tit fully into it. However there was too much room in the cup and the strap.

“Hmm, too big.”

He tossed back the 38s and the D cups--even the ones that she had put aside which made her bum.

“Try this one then.” He gave her a 36 C black and white polka dot.

She put it on herself with only a small amount of effort and he adjusted the straps--but still too loose.

“Take that one off, try this.” He went down another step to 34 B--just a plain grey one.

“Hey I think this is it.” she said as she adjusted the straps.

The bra did _not_ have any padding yet she was spilling over the top anyway. He hated to admit it, but she was going to be hard to shop for--34 C wasn’t too common--but in luck he had a few choice pieces; and two of the ones she chose fit. Her favorite, a bright yellow front-clasped racerback.

“What do you think?” He asked her as she felt herself, checked the straps, and did a little ‘jiggle test’.

“You’re right...this fits WAY better. Oh man I don’t feel like I’m choking anymore! I had no idea.”

 

“You know...I think that one came with a matching bottom piece.”

“Shut the front door!”

Her hands planted firmly on the van floor.

“Do you want to um, trade out the ones you’re wearing...I can only imagine that they--YEP.”

Halfway through his sentence she unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, and sure enough the Reverend had sewn the women undies as well--complete with his bearded face on the crotch--which sent chills down his body.

She stripped out of her pants--thankful to have shaven--and he helped her out of those god-forsaken underwear.

“Hey um...so this isn’t normally isn’t part of...um, what I do. But I was wondering if I could clean down her before giving them to you...for me, you see.”

She smiled and nodded, “I know what you’re saying. And for the record I only hopped out of the shower a little while ago but I get it... _corporate policy.”_ she shrugged.

He wasn’t going to argue or ask what. He crawled forward, using one hand to push her thighs apart and the other to lean her back. Before she could say anything he pressed his lips and tongue firmly against her vagina--causing the wind to be sharply exhaled from her.

“Just relax.” He whispered against her flesh, the stubble of his face tickling her inner thigh.

He began to lick the entirety of her vagina--thrusting it deep, teasing the edges, and pressing her clitoris--Kimmy didn’t know what it was that she was feeling to cause her to make such noises, but she didn’t want it to stop.

Moisture seeped from the edges of his lips and he pushed a single finger within her--running deep along her inner walls--causing her to yelp.

He finger-fucked her faster and faster--devoting his tongue to her clit--until her whole body began convulsing and her hair was matted with sweat; screaming out into an orgasmic thunder that stirred the local wildlife to scatter.

Wiping his face on the back of his arm, he sensually slid the brand new highlighter-yellow booty-shorts up her legs and into place. She caught her breath and leaned up onto her elbows; her knees instinctively closed to keep the warmth inside.

“So, uh...How much do I owe you?” she asks looking herself over and realizing that this was (or hopefully would be) her first pair of adult underwear that she chose herself. That was an incredible birthday present to happen upon.

“Don’t worry about it gorgeous. You’ve earned those.”

She blushed and began to dress herself again.

“Well thank you very much! But I need to get going! It’s my birthday today and I have a whole lot more stuff to do!”

“Happy Birthday.”

 

She closed the van door and walked joyfully (if not a bit awkwardly) down the block until she spotted the liquor store. _No good adult birthday party is complete without adult beverages!_ So she dug out the ‘forms of identification’ she had, and hoped her luck would keep up and some stranger would buy it for her; and if not she could figure out some other way to earn it.

  


**Author's Note:**

> I feel kinda weird using Kimmy as a MC in smut--yeah she's 30, but she's also incredibly naive so I just always end up feeling weird. So I tried to write it in a way that wasn't ENTIRELY her being taken advantage of...but let's be face it...this episode TOTALLY IMPLIED that shit!
> 
> Also as a side note, many people are currently wearing a bra that is ill-fitting for them, you should go to a professional sizer and when possible, seek out off-sized items as they may fit your particular frame better. #Justsayin


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